Unhinged
by ketamine.methanol
Summary: With a shaky breath as he trembled from the chill, the snow renewed beneath his bluish palms, and he stared up with wide, hollow green eyes. "You have to look harder." RATED M for frightening scenes, macabre, and mature themes. Non-slash. Oneshot.


**A/N: Warning; this fic contains frightening scenes, horror, macabre, and other mature subjects that may be disturbing for some readers. Please take this into consideration before you read this fanfic.**

**Otherwise, enjoy.**

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Kyle ran, clothing torn in places from tree branches as he scourged the woods for his younger brother. He eventually came out into the clearing again on the opposite side of a pristine lake dividing himself between woodland and the building he knew he needed to be in on the opposite side. He stared at the building before plunging into the water.

The world slid by him with a different feeling than it should have, and he breathed in, blinking open his eyes as he stared up at his reflection in the water above his head. He glanced around him into the dark before grabbing the water's surface and pulling himself up through it, the top cold and rough.

He looked around from his spot on the roof of the building abruptly, staring down at the ground. Ike lay there frozen and dead on the edge of the shore from when he'd washed up. Kyle's hands trembled as he descended from the roof, dropping into the snow and touching his brother's face. His brother's eyes opened and Kyle started to cry. The black-haired boy's face was replaced by Kenny's a moment later, though it faded to nothing as Ike's body stretched out into treelike limbs and a grin split it's pale featureless visage, bark crawling up the sides of his face as he whispered.

"_Look harder_."

Kyle pulled Ike out of the ice and the boy's skin peeled off him, his bones clattering to a bloodless pile on the frozen water. Kyle dropped him and turned, walking into the enclosure behind him as he held his head, submerging into the water that replaced the inside of the building and coming out on the front step, collapsing to his knees on the newly grown grass.

He rose his hands to his face with a scream, tugging at his wet hair as he collapsed on his side in the foliage and began to cry, the plants around him bending down to hug him into the earth as he wept. The remainder of the snow withered away, sliding behind the trees in a hasty flee as though to hide instead of melt, and he woke up after what felt like hours and coughed violently, throwing himself out of the water of the lake and scraping himself out onto the shore.

With a shaky breath as he trembled from the chill, the snow renewed beneath his bluish palms, he stared up with wide, hollow green eyes.

"_You have to look harder_."

The whisper in his ears came and left like wind. Stan stood there with his back to him, and Kyle stood hastily, taking a step forward. So did Stan. Kyle licked his lips, looking around frantically, and Stan followed suit. The redhead ran; so did the ravenette always a step ahead of him as they both sprinted into the woods.

The trees groaned, their leaves sliding away with the sound effect of screaming as they slipped between the cracks in the bark. Kyle ran faster, but Stan only seemed to go faster as well; he broke through the woods finally and into a clearing met by a thicket.

"STAN!"

The redhead stood in the centre, burrs grabbing to his jeans like angry miniature porcupines. Kyle ripped them away, slashing with his hands through bushes as he stared around for his best friend, eyes dancing and frantic.

"STAN! COME BACK!"

Lips tickled his ear. He fell against them, desperate for any kind of comfort or contact. Kenny consulted him, and Kyle could only tell by the soft fuzz of the collar of his parka, pulled up over his nose. Kenny whispered something incomprehensible from behind the layer of clothing, and Kyle reached forward, pulling down the zipper slowly to his bellybutton.

His insides exposed, Kenny began to scream trying to scoop his organs back in as he stared down at his split centre. Kyle could do little more than stare, his fingers curling against his palms and his face sinking sullenly into his hands.

"I'm so sorry Kenny. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Kenny's voice came out as hoarse mumbled despite the obvious way he was screaming his words at Kyle, and the redhead shook his head, doing Kenny's parka back up. He continued to shake his head; he touched Kenny's eyes and lead the lids into a close and the blond stilled. Kyle peeled down the front of the parka gently, staring at the lips there for a long, long time, cold and blue, just like his brother's.

Ike.

"Ike."

Kyle lifted his head, staring around at the clearing once more. The building stood in front of him with a wide opened door, and Kyle felt a sinking feeling of intimidation wash over him. The lake that rested behind him was smaller but it was still there. Kyle didn't take the time to see if the disfigured representation of his brother and Kenny combined still lay coiled by the lakeside, and instead he strolled into the house, the door closing behind him and lapsing him into darkness.

Things faded in slowly, like a light turning on in slow motion as the school room appeared. Kyle laced his hands in his hair, shaking his head and staring around sullenly. Not a noise, not even his breathing, and he began to panic slightly, almost screaming as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stan stood there, still with his back toward him, and Kyle snapped his hands forward in case the ravenette tried to run away, but he didn't. Turning Stan around slowly, Kyle was outraged to find it was Cartman instead. Kyle drew back, staring at him angrily.

"You're relapsing."

Cartman looked on at him with an air of unsuspected patience and Kyle grabbed a chair, ready to attack.

"Kyle, come back."

"NO!" he screamed throwing the chair at the obese boy, and the chair stuck in him, familiar red fluid weeping from his wounds as he continued to stand there. Kyle turned away, holding onto the desk with twitching limbs. Kenny stood at the front of the room again, his parka zipped up past his face and over his head. Kyle looked away from him in disregard a moment, before sitting down in the chair at the desk. The room washed into an office. Kenny remained still, folding his hands over the desk. Kyle shook his head.

"If Stan's here I need to speak with him. He's the only one left."

"You're not seeing Stan today, Mister Broflovski." The voice that left Kenny was not his own but Kyle disregarded this carefully as well. Kyle instead jammed his fingers into his ears, amplifying the silence. Kenny's hands rose, reaching behind his head and undoing the parka slowly, revealing Ike in his place, eyes glassy. The younger boy licked his lips as Kyle's parents climbed up over the edge of the table, their eyes snapping in all directions like marionettes as their limbs quivered. Sheila screamed so loud that Kyle could hear it over his fingers and he took in a frightened breath through his nose, sliding his chair backwards. She clambered across the desk at him, only screaming louder and louder to the point where Kyle wanted to shut her up for good, but he feared for his life if he unplugged his ears, and instead closed his eyes.

Darkness passed through him as he opened them once more, huddled in the corner of a basement. Starting to dig, Kyle panted, tugging Stan from the earth from beneath the floorboards. The boy was still alive, and Kyle could tell by the dilation of his pupils as Kyle dipped his head out of the light to get a better look.

"Stan, you're alive."

A dry croak escaped the other teenager's lips and Kyle stroked the side of his face patiently, before laying him down gently against the wood. Cartman came out next with bullet holes rotting away in his chest, and Kyle laid him beside Stan. The scent of decay only became worse as Kyle dug deeper into the hole, pulling out Kenny after, his parka a crisp brown from dried blood as creatures writhed within his insides. Kyle disposted of him up against the wall so that he was sitting up, and then finally, Kyle gazed down in the hole, looking for Ike.

Ike was not there. Cross, Kyle looked at the three bodies beside him to ensure that he hadn't already taken Ike out. Recounting a good seven times, Kyle began to lick his lips with anxiety, falling back against the wood panelled flooring of his basement. Stan twitched on the floor beside him, the back of his head pooling blood on the ground.

"Kyle?"

The redhead glanced up as he heard his brother's voice, and he came back to reality, holding the wall of his house as he stood, running up from the basement and slamming the door behind him. Ike stood and stared at him from the end of the hall, and Kyle licked his lips a second time slowly, hungrily.

"Ike..."

"Uncle Kyle, I thought we were playing hide and seek? Where did you go? I've been waiting for like, a half hour."

The six year old stared at him, taking in the state of Kyle's clothing. The two stared at eachother for a long time. Kenny arrived at his side, trying to shove his innards back inside as he spoke. "Kyle, we have to go. You know this is a bad idea."

"It's not a bad idea. He escaped!"

Kenny shook his head at him, pressing a finger to his lips. Kyle stared at him before staring down at the end of the hall where his brother was looking entirely miffed. Kyle took in a few breaths and glanced back at Kenny. "He escaped, Kenny. He's not in there anymore. I put him there first, he was the first one!"

Kenny shook his head slightly. "That's not Ike, Kyle. That's Timothy."

Kyle glanced back down the hall at Ike. The little boy swallowed slightly, taking a nervous step back. "Uncle Kyle...? Are you talking to yourself?"

His nephew. This was not Ike, but his brother's son. Kyle reared his head back a bit, holding his hands over his eyes. Kyle peered through his fingertips at the ceiling. Eyes peeked down at him through the hole that the champagne bottle had shot through it when he was twenty. Ike was still alive. Ike couldn't have had a baby without being alive. He licked his lips even more feverishly before jogging down the hall and grabbing Timothy's hand, leading him outside. "You know where Stark's pond is?"

"Yeah! Daddy took me there once to go ice skating."

"I'm going to show you something."

The child held his hand tightly with full trust as Kyle walked with him through the town. The temperatures had dropped and it was nightfall. Kenny ran near him, trying to pull him back, but he pressed forward. As they came to the edge of the pond, Kyle knelt down by the water.

"You tried this already. He lived. Then you killed me because I told you you'd feel better." Kenny whispered to him. Kyle didn't look at him. "Then you killed Cartman. You shot him three times. And then Stan..."

"NO! I would never do that to Stan!"

"... Uncle Kyle, you're scaring me!"

Kyle stared back at Timothy. The little boy was on his hands and knees beside the pond with Kyle, shivering. He'd forgotten both their jackets; it wasn't any matter. Kenny pressed his lips to his ear. "Don't do it. You're relapsing. Don't do it. You got out before but this time they won't let you go."

Kyle guided his nephew's form toward the water, whispering. "Sometimes if you look into the water for a long time, you see things that you didn't know you could see," he whispered. Timothy stared at him before Kyle thrust the boy into the frigid depths, holding him under. Kenny started to beat at his back but he didn't feel it, even as bubbles surfaced and the six year old at the end of his palms struggled. The limbs began to weaken their struggle as the bubbles rose less. He pulled his hands out empty-handed.

"Are you gonna show me what's there?"

Kyle turned his head, staring at Timothy, his hands still wet. He stared down into the water, the little boy no where to be found. He'd failed. He stared at his nephew before hugging him close to himself. "Ike, we're gonna go together this time."

"I'm not Ike! I'm Timmy! Hey! Wait, it's cold! Stop!"

"Shhh." Kyle submerged with the six year old, sinking under the water and holding him close to his body. The little boy's screams could be heard through the depths as Kyle inhaled, choking instantly. The six year old was wrenched from his grasps moments later as figures hovered above the water; in some off tone he swore he heard Ike's voice as his vision blurred even more, the ice-cold temperatures taking it's toll on his body.

Kyle took his last watery breath and turned in his fluid tomb, where his friends stared back at him, looking disappointed as they laid at the bottom of the pond. Kenny shook his head at him as Kyle felt a sense of vertigo, his lifeless body being wrenched from the pond without him. He vaguely heard the counts for CPR on the borders of his consciousness, but he ignored them over. Ike's voice cried out like a broken record. _Timothy Timothy Timothy Timothy! Kyle Kyle Kyle Kyle Kyle Kyle!_

"How come you didn't come back after I killed you? Why didn't you come back to help me? You always come back."

Kenny frowned at him as he spoke, taking his hand as the world beneath them opened into inky darkness. Tears dotted Kenny's eyes somehow through the water and he shook his head as Kyle shut his own slowly, his consciousness slipping for the last time. Kenny's voice whispered through his entire being quietly as he felt hands on his body, his companions holding him close.

"_We've been trying to help you all this time." _

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**Afternote: **

**... Well. If you made it this far, hey! What did you think? Are you confused? Good! You should be. **

**I'm leaving this with a lot of loose ends; the purpose is to leave you wondering what the hell just happened here.**

**If you're really curious as to what happened, however, I can give you a brief summary behind this story if you let me know along with a review, but you'll probably feel more mystified not knowing.**

**Sorry if this was disappointing to anyone. It was really a spur of the moment thing.**

**Alternately, questions can be left in reviews or PMd to me. I'll probably get back to you either way.**

**Sending love.**


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